Arachnophobia
by mamaduck
Summary: What if Harry and Ron had been intercepted by a staff member after their meeting with Aragog, in second year? What if that staff member had been Snape? Warning - contains spanking. No romance, no slash.


1Fic: Arachnophobia

This ficlet occurs when Harry and Ron are in the Forbidden Forest, with Fang, meeting up with Aragog and family whilst Hermione lies petrified in the Infirmary.

It all belongs to Rowling, may her artistic genius continue.

The Hogwarts corridors were dark and quiet as Severus Snape made his way toward the hospital wing. It was well after midnight and he was finishing his second of many rounds through the sleeping castle.

Until the Chamber of Secrets mystery was solved, he would be constantly on guard. With Dumbledore away from the school, it fell to him, Minerva, Filius, Pomona, Vector and the ghosts to keep watch against the monster prowling undeterred through Hogwarts.. Of course, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Lockhart, was completely useless. _Windbag_, thought Severus, disparagingly.

At least Albus was working on how to banish this creature. His latest missive stated he was quite certain what it was, but wanted to keep mum so as not to incite hysteria (Severus had snorted upon reading that bit). The trick was in figuring out how to banish said creature permanently, rather than just reseal it in the Chamber.

Severus had great faith in Dumbledore's abilities. So if Albus said a solution was in sight, he would believe him. He just wished he would hurry up about it, before any more students were petrified, or worse. They didn't need another moaning Myrtle, or the stigma of having a student perish at the school. Not to mention that the heartache of losing a student would be nearly unbearable. Severus shoved that fleeting and unwelcome thought into the dark recesses of his mind. He needed to maintain his image of being the uncaring and evil force of the dungeons.

Placing his hand on the Infirmary door, he paused. The protective wards flared green and the door swung open. The petrified students were being protected intensely: student visitation had been prohibited and staff access was restricted. Only the four Heads of House were granted access into Poppy Pomfrey's domain. She was determined these students would recover.

The ward was dim, the curtains drawn around each of the beds. Silently, Severus moved down the length of the room. His black robes swished noiselessly with each stride. Stopping by the second to last bed in the ward, he took a surreptitious look around before parting the curtain and stepping closer to the student lying within.

Hermione Granger could have been a wax model. Her eyes were wide open, a determined look on her small features. Brown hair curled wildly around her face, remaining unnaturally fixed in place when Severus reached out a long finger to touch it. Her lips were parted, as though she were in the middle of a word. _No surprise there_, Snape thought. He stood motionless for a moment, his hand resting on the girl's upraised arm. He gave her clenched hand a brief pat and retreated through the part in the curtains.

He needed fresh air. Fang would appreciate a walk, he figured, as he pulled the Infirmary door open and exited in the direction of the front doors.

Fang was gone. The door was closed, but the dog's basket was empty and cold. Severus turned slowly in the centre of Hagrid's hut, his eyes calculating. Something glinted on the table. He moved closer and poked his wand in the direction of the glimmer. An invisibility cloak. Curious, the only person he ever knew that owned one of these rare and exceedingly expensive items was...James Bloody Potter! Of course! The Menace's son would have inherited it and no one would have thought about all the mischief he could get into with a magical item like that!

Severus suddenly remembered all the times in the previous two years when he had felt the presence of another person in the corridors but had been unable to reveal anyone. His temper flared. It was very likely that at this precise moment Potter and Weasley, in Fang's company, were involved in some kind of mischief or mayhem. In the Forbidden Forest, no doubt. Granger would be with them if she weren't currently impersonating a marble statuette.

He crossed the room and flung open the door. The Forbidden Forest was silent. The silvery moon lit up Hogwarts grounds so that Severus could see the empty lawns around the castle.

Sitting down on the wooden steps in front of the door, he arranged himself and settled in to wait. Fang would come home eventually, or the Forest would give some clue as to what was happening, or where.

And when he did find Potter and Weasley, they would wish the Forbidden Forest had swallowed them whole.

As the blue Ford Anglia reversed back into the depths of the Forbidden Forest, Harry and Ron started after Fang. Once released from the car, the dog had made a beeline for Hagrid's cottage, his tail tucked between his legs.

Harry's legs were shaky as he maneuvered between the trees, slipping on the moss covered roots. Ron's face was puce and he was muttering incoherently. Reaching the edge of the forest, Harry sped up.

_Poor Fang_, Harry thought, _he was scared into a slobbering mess_. Probably tucked up in his dog bed with his paws over his eyes. Harry decided he would stay for a few minutes with him before gathering his invisibility cloak and heading back to the castle. Ron could use a few minutes too recover too. The spiders seemed to have taken the wind out of him. Jogging around the corner of Hagrid's hut, Harry looked over his shoulder to see Ron stumble off into the pumpkin patch. He turned the corner, intent on finding Hagrid's beloved Fang, only to see him lying belly up in front of the steps, his eyes fixed adoringly on-

-Professor Snape. Sitting on the wooden step, idly rubbing Fang's exposed belly with the toe of one polished black boot. Harry skidded to a stop, speechless. He was dimly aware of the sounds of Ron vomiting into the Pumpkin patch but could only focus on those black eyes that were boring a hole right through him.

'Hagrid...follow the spiders...huge...Aragog...eat us...car...escape...Fang was frightened...'

Random words and phrases seemed to burble from Harry's mouth. Snape's eyes narrowed and he stood. Harry stumbled back a pace. Snape looked as menacing as Aragog, standing on the step, towering over Harry. And in his hand was Harry's invisibility cloak. They were screwed.

Ron staggered around the corner of the hut, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

'Follow the spiders..right! Friends, my arse! We're lucky to be alive!' he croaked. He looked over at Harry and followed Harry's gaze to their professor.

'Oh.' Ron's face paled even further, if possible. His freckles stood out like little orange beacons on his face.

'Oh, indeed.' Professor Snape swept down to ground level, his eyes unwavering in their intensity. Fang had sat up when the belly rubbing ceased and he bumped his head under Snape's hand, wanting attention. Drool hung from his huge dog jowls. Snape rested his hand on the massive head and then spoke without taking his eyes off the boys, shivering in front of him.

'Bed, Fang.'

The boys watched as Fang immediately bounded into the house. They could hear him as he turned round and round and then flopped into his immense wicker dog bed with an audible sigh of doggy pleasure.

Snape turned and ascended the steps to Hagrid's hut and pulled the door closed. As he descended the three short steps to the ground, his eyes turned once again to the two twelve year olds before him.

'Office, boys.'

Snape's voice was ominous. He noted that although the boys immediately started toward the castle, they certainly didn't move with the enthusiasm Fang had shown when receiving his command.

Harry moved toward the castle doors on autopilot. Bloody fantastic. They manage, just barely, to survive being eaten by Hagrid's "friends", not finding out what they had hoped, and now they had to answer to Snape, who could sniff out a lie from a hundred feet away. _Great, Ugly, Greasy, Big Nosed Git_.

Stumbling almost blindly across the Hogwarts grounds, Ron was concentrating on swallowing back the bile that was lingering in his throat. He swiped at his sweaty brow with a shaky hand. Aragog and his family were going to give him nightmares for weeks, maybe months. A mental picture of the many beady eyes gave him pause and he glanced wildly behind him, half expecting clicking pincers and multitudes of long, black, hairy legs to be at his back.

'Move it, Weasley.' Snape growled. He took in Ron's pale face and the convulsive swallowing of his throat. It was obvious that the boy had been frightened out of what few wits he had.

Snape was aware of Ron's fear of spiders, having noted his reluctance to have anything to do with them, or any parts of them, during potions class. Usually, Miss Granger ended up taking pity on the boy and preparing his arachnid ingredients for him, while Snape turned a blind eye. He knew what it was like to have a phobia.

Aragog! It was a miracle both boys ever evaded the clutches of the giant arachnid. Snape himself was always very careful, when in the Forbidden Forest, to stay far away from the territory of the gargantuan spiders. In fact, he wasn't certain how many people knew of their existence. He learned of them through his acquaintance with Hagrid, both being two of the few who frequented the wooded depths of the forest.

It had been the lure of the Forbidden Forest, and its plethora of potions ingredients, that had forged his friendship with Hogwart's Gamekeeper. And, Snape had to admit to himself, Hagrid always was drawn to the unpopular or the underdog. Just look at the creatures he dragged home. In fact, it was Hagrid's misery over the loss of one of his unsavoury "pets" that had led Snape to purchase and deliver a Neopolitan Mastiff puppy to Hagrid's doorstep, anonymously. Hagrid had never said anything, but Snape figured he knew who had left the puppy. Fang had been the sole member of the Severus Snape fan club ever since and Hagrid was completely devoted to the slobbering canine.

Reaching the castle, Snape strode past the boys to open the doors. Their faces were downcast as they filed past him into the foyer. Ron's teeth were chattering loudly and his eyes were glazed. Silently, they followed Snape down the stairways into the dungeons, until he reached his office door.

'In.'

Snape intoned as he released the wards on the door and pushed it open. Harry and Ron followed him in and collapsed into the two chairs in front of the desk, not waiting for an invitation.

Ron was certain his legs were going to give out before he made it to Snape's office. As the shaking and nervous energy left his body, he felt strangely numb, as though a tremendous fatigue had settled on him. He slumped bonelessly in the chair, staring unseeing at the desk in front of him.

Harry watched apprehensively as Snape unlocked a potions cupboard in the corner. The potions master selected two small phials and closed the door with a snap. The sharp sound was eerily loud in the cavernous room.

Striding back over to the boys, Snape uncorked one of the phials and handed it to Ron.

'Drink this.'

The fact that Ron took the potion and downed it without question proved how affected he was by the experience with the spiders.

'He's terribly afraid of spiders, Sir.' Harry whispered, concerned for his friend and his glassy eyed state.

'He didn't want to come with me, but he did it for-' Harry broke off before he said Hermione, '-me. S-so I wouldn't go alone.'

Snape's dark gaze slid over to Harry for a second and then returned to Ron. The professor's expression remained neutral, but a muscle in his jaw clenched. There was no doubt that he was angry.

As the potion took effect and Ron's state of shock seemed to lessen, the red head heaved a sigh and looked around, seeming surprised that he was in Snape's office.

'Mr. Weasley.' Ron looked up at Snape quickly, his eyes wide.

'You are to return to your dormitory and go directly to bed. This is a phial of dreamless sleep.' Snape held up the bottle of blue solution.

'Take it when you are in bed, as the effects are immediate. Your body needs uninterrupted, nightmare-free sleep to recover from the shock of this evening. You may use my floo to take you to the Gryffindor Common Room.'

Taking the small bottle from his professor, Ron pushed himself to his feet. He swayed and Snape reached out a hand to support him. Snape moved ahead of him to the fireplace, where he quickly threw in a pinch of floo powder and stated,

'Gryffindor Common Room,' before firmly shoving Ron into the whirling green flames.

Harry watched as his friend was whisked away in the flames. As Snape straightened up and turned to face him, Harry felt his stomach clench.

Walking purposefully over to his desk, Snape sat down in his chair and folded his hands on the uncluttered surface. He studied his clasped fingers for a moment, flicking a finger over a thumbnail, before focusing his attention on the student in front of him.

'Why,' his deep voice resonated in the quiet room, 'would you even attempt such a hare brained escapade as to enter the Forbidden Forest at night, far enough in as to trespass on Aragog's territory? Do you realize how fortunate you are to be alive?!'

Snape's voice rose as he continued,

'Do you realize that no one would have known what had happened to you or Mr Weasley? You could have disappeared without a trace. Can you imagine how that would devastate your families? What were you doing out of bed with a monster on the loose at Hogwarts? What were you thinking?!'

As Snape's voice thundered over him, Harry cowered in his chair. It wasn't fair! Indignation fired in his chest. They were trying to get some answers to solve the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets! Somebody had to do something! He straightened up as resolve rushed through his veins and unglued his tongue.

'Hagrid said to follow the spiders! We didn't know they would want to eat us! And somebody needs to do something about the Chamber of Secrets!' Harry was nearly shouting now,

'And we did find out that it wasn't Hagrid who opened the Chamber 50 years ago, and we did find out that the girl who was killed was in a bathroom!' Harry finished, breathing hard, his thin chest heaving.

Snape looked murderous. He leaned toward Harry and spoke very quietly, menacingly.

'Do. Not. Raise your voice to me. Ever. Do I make myself clear?'

'Yes, Sir.' Harry mumbled, suddenly regretting his outburst.

'Do you not think Professor Dumbledore is aware of Hagrid's innocence regarding the Chamber of Secrets?' Snape glared down at Harry.

'Do you think Professor Dumbledore, who was a teacher at Hogwarts during the previous opening of the Chamber, is unaware of the circumstances surrounding that girl's death? Are you truly that thick, Potter?'

_Do you think all the adults here at Hogwarts go around with their head up their arse_? Snape added to himself, mentally cataloguing Lockhart to that description.

Harry sat in his chair, feeling quite small.

'Mr. Potter. Look at me.' Snape's voice was exasperated. Harry looked up tentatively.

'You must stop taking it upon yourself to solve the problems of the world. There are adults to do that. And, contrary to what you might think in your twelve year old wisdom, things would progress more smoothly for all of us if you would just do what you were told, abide by the rules, and be a good little boy.'

Harry chafed at the patronizing words, but remained silent.

'The adults cannot do their job effectively if they are dealing with your misbehaviour, Potter. You must learn to stay out of what does not directly concern you, unless you are asked to participate. In the current circumstance, your participation is following the rules, and keeping safe.

'Safe does not mean sneaking around the castle under an invisibility cloak - and no, you are not getting it back until you are mature enough to use it wisely - or venturing into the Forbidden Forest in the dead of night..'

Snape rose abruptly behind his desk. Harry tracked his every movement. The tall wizard stood behind his desk, the palms of his hands pressed into the smooth surface. He leaned forward.

'I believe you remember what happens to naughty little boys who break the rules to risk their own lives and those of others?'

Harry felt a chill run down his spine. He had been holding on to the tiniest of hopes that Snape might forget to punish him. He didn't know which would be worse: being punished by Snape, or facing McGonagall and her ruler. Belatedly, he remembered to answer Snape.

'Yessir.' His voice squeaked, and he flushed. Snape nodded.

'Very well then.'

Time seemed to segue into slow motion as Snape went to the wall and retrieved The Chair. Removing his outer robes and hanging them on a hook by the inner door, Snape returned to the sturdy armless chair and sat. He looked over at Harry, who hadn't moved.

'To me, Potter.'

Harry watched the professor's hand raise and beckon to him and time suddenly snapped back into perspective. Swallowing, he stood, shakily, and slowly made his way over to the seated man as though moving underwater.

'Trousers and pants.' The dreaded words flowed heavily over Harry as he fumbled with the clasp and pushed the garments to his knees. The dungeon air was cool against his exposed skin.

Once again, Harry was overcome with remorse and self pity for his actions. Why did Hagrid tell them to follow the spiders? Why didn't the adults tell them what they were doing to solve the mystery so he didn't feel the need to take things into his own hands? And why did Ron get sent to bed, but he was getting spanked?

Professor Snape guided Harry over his lap and pulled his shirt tail up, out of the way, exposing the pale bottom. As if reading Harry's thoughts, he spoke.

' When you are an adult, Mr Potter, assuming you live that long, you will understand the importance of having children follow the rules. Until then, you will be reprimanded and punished for your transgressions.

'Mr Weasley will suffer for countless days and nights as his mind relives his phobic encounter. You wouldn't want to be in his shoes. I hope you value his friendship enough to realize what he endured on your behalf.'

Hanging over Snape's wool-clad knees, Harry listened miserably to what Snape was saying. The man had finished speaking and Harry was thinking about Ron and the spiders when the first spank descended onto his bottom with a tremendous smack!

Harry twitched in surprise and Snape's heavy left hand pressed on his back to hold him in place.

Two! Three! Four! Five! Harry clenched his teeth, determined to be stoic. It wasn't as bad as McGonagall's ruler. Yet.

Six! Seven! Eight! Nine! Ten! Harry's breath came in little pants, puffing out in time with the smacks. The burn was building on his backside. He could feel the tears collecting at the corners of his eyes. OK, so it was nearly as bad as the ruler.

Eleven! Twelve! Thirteen! Fourteen! Fifteen! Shifting Harry slightly on his lap, Snape concentrated on the lower part of Harry's bottom, the area that touched the chair when the boy sat down. He wanted Harry to feel the effects of this spanking into tomorrow. The sounds of the sharp smacks echoed like shots off the office walls.

Harry let out a sob as the fire erupted on his bottom. His feet kicked out and he squirmed, the scratchy fabric of Snape's trousers rough on his belly. As bad as the ruler! Worse than the ruler!

Sixteen! Seventeen! Eighteen! Nineteen! Twenty! Limp over his professor's lap, Harry cried openly with each wallop. His bottom felt like the skin was burning off, he was certain there would be blisters. This was the worst ever!

Twenty-one! Twenty-two! Twenty-three! Twenty-four! The last four unexpected spanks targeted Harry's upper thighs, each smack directly on top of the one previous. Harry gave up all pretense of being stoic and lay there, his breath catching on his sobs.

Surveying the little reddened bottom on his lap, Snape wondered how many more times he would have this particular boy over his knee during the next several years. If the Golden Boy didn't manage to kill himself first. Snape flexed his right hand, stiff after administering the thorough spanking.

When he felt Harry move, Snape stood the boy up, frowning at the mess of dirt, mucus and tears on the sorrowful face. As Harry pulled up and fastened his trousers, Snape conjured a flannel.

Harry flinched when Snape tipped his face up and wiped it with a damp cloth. He missed the look that flashed through the professor's black eyes. His bottom pulsed with a fiery heartbeat of its own and Harry could think of nothing other then getting to his own bed where he could curl up and forget about the events of this night. His hands moved of their own accord around to his backside, rubbing against the sting.

Banishing the soileded cloth, Snape let his hand rest on Harry's shoulder. He could feel the thin bones beneath his hand, and he wondered, not for the first time, if Potter's home life was not all it seemed.

'Mr Potter. At the risk of repeating myself ad nauseum, I do hope you do not find yourself again in this position anytime soon. It would behoove you to learn from your mistakes, before you find yourself in a situation that becomes fatal. I do want to see you live to grow up, Potter.'

Harry looked into his professor's eyes, surprised and slightly touched by the concern he saw there. It made him feel uncomfortable. He was rather unaccustomed to having people be concerned about him.

Snape continued, 'If only to experience the delight of being able to remind you of these times.' He smirked.

_Git,_ Harry thought. But a curiously warm feeling had settled in his stomach. _Probably radiating from my butt_, Harry 's mind scoffed.

Rising from the chair, Snape saw Harry over to the floo.

'Bed. Straight away, or you will answer to me, tomorrow.'

Harry nodded, suddenly too tired to wonder just how Snape would know if he went to bed or not.

Stepping into the green flames, Harry caught a final glimpse of Snape's stern features before being whirled away to the Gryffindor Common Room and to his own bed.

Sighing, Snape turned toward the door to his quarters. Bed for him too, no more rounds through the corridors tonight. He'd be up at dawn and do a patrol of the grounds then. But first, brandy by the fire. It had been that kind of night.

He wondered if he would survive the next five years of Potter's Hogwarts career without suffering a nervous breakdown. He shook his head, not wanting to think about it. Picking his robes off the hook, he opened the door and glided inside, closing the wooden slab silently behind him.


End file.
